


A Stormy Sea of Moving Emotion

by WhoIsRah



Series: Weary Heads [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Turmoil, Follow up, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I promise, M/M, but it turned out surprisingly ok, dean needs to figure himself out, its going to take him a minute though, its not angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29196600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoIsRah/pseuds/WhoIsRah
Summary: Dean's overthinking things, and an identity crisis ensues.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Weary Heads [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143554
Kudos: 18





	A Stormy Sea of Moving Emotion

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of wrote this by accident.

Dean Winchester’s heart felt like a jar of oil and water that had been shaken. Vigorously. He knew it would. It was a price that he was more than willing to pay to have Cas back. He had known that it would take a while for him to get used to having a man love him, and to love a man, and he’d told Cas as much.

Three days after getting him back, Dean pulled Cas aside to tell him what was burning away in his chest. “Listen, man, this is all new to me so,” the conversation was awkward but necessary, Dean cleared his throat, “if you could just be a bit patient with me?” 

Cas had smiled, those crow’s feet at his eyes deepening. “Dean, I’ve been content for twelve years. I will be as patient as you need me to be.” It should have settled him to hear that, but instead, it spun him further out of control. That jar inside of him given another violent shake.

The only thing since Cas’ return that had really calmed him down was Claire, another three days later. She’d come around to get some books to research a monster that she and Kaia had found. There was a twenty-year gap between them, and they were going through the same thing. “It’s scary,” she’d said. And Dean had nodded. She punched his arm and smirked in that way that reminded him of himself, “We could be twins if you weren’t so old.”

Jody and Donna came around the next day with a mission to cook them dinner. He got a little while alone with Jody who, with all the maternal care she could muster, asked him what was wrong. Dean almost burst into tears right there and then. “I can’t do this,” he said.

“Do what? This thing you have with Castiel?” Of course she knew, she was there at the beach with them that day, before Dean had lost it completely.

Dean stared at the books on the wall instead of at her because he knew that if he looked at her, he’d break. “Yeah. I can’t be around him without feeling like I'm going to throw up. I’m trying, Jody,” he blinked, hard, “I’m trying to be the man he thinks I am but,” Dean splayed his hands and stared at their surface. The scars and callouses that made them rough and uninviting, “I don’t know if I can be.”

Jody was quiet for a while. “Twelve years is a really long time to wait for somebody. Especially if you think there's no chance. You don’t have to try to be the man you already are.” This time, Dean was sure that it was meant to be a reassurance. But, again, his heart clenched with pain and guilt. He looked at her and smiled. It wasn’t a real smile, but Dean tried to make it seem genuine; the way he had since he was a kid. Almost perfect. Jody smiled back, but he knew that she hadn’t bought it.

Later in the night, he’d told Donna the same thing, and she stared off at Jody who was deep in conversation with Sam. “Yah,” she sounded wistful, “I know how you feel.” There was something in her eyes that shone like sadness.

Concern filled him, “You and Jody having troubles?” Donna looked at him quickly, a surprised smile on her face.

“What? Oh, no. We’re great.” She laughed, smacking his arm affectionately.

Dean frowned, “Then… what?”

She studied his face for a moment. “You really don’t know?” Dean raised an eyebrow, “Well, alright then,” Donna leaned in real close and whispered, “nobody said it’s a bad thing.”

Cas was almost completely human by the middle of the second week. They hadn’t spent a lot of time together, Dean and him, and Dean wasn’t proud to admit that he’d been avoiding him. He didn’t want to hurt Cas. Truth be told, Dean wanted nothing more than to hold his hand. Tidy up his hair. Kiss him.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t let himself, because every time he saw those hands that he wanted to hold, or that hair that he wanted to smooth, or that face that he wanted so much to kiss, that jar of water and oil got so shaken up inside of him. He wanted to scream, or cry, or vomit. Dean wanted to understand how it wasn’t a bad thing. He wanted to feel less guilty about giving Cas so little of what he wanted before ripping it all away after a few days. He wanted the oil and the water to settle.

He wanted Cas to stop smiling at him like that. So patient and forgiving. So filled with kindness and care, and love. Dean wished that he’d just go off. Yell. Scream. Blame. He wanted his guilt to be validated, and yet Cas was only telling him that he had nothing to feel guilty over.

Sam wanted to help because he was Sam. It would have been frustrating if Dean wasn’t so desperate for it, but the thing was; this wasn’t something that even Sam could help with. This was something that he needed to figure out on his own. Or with Cas, the jar shaker.

“I’m here to talk if you need,” He said, “please, don’t forget that.” They’d been more open with one another since the whole Empty thing went down, and it was nice. All the times they’d told each other ‘no more secrets’ had culminated into this strange understanding that there would always be secrets. But now, there was nothing really to hide. They were free of the hiding.

Dean hadn’t forgotten, anyway. He just didn’t know what to say. How do you ask your brother for relationship advice when the relationship in question was between you and your mutual best friend? 

Night after night Dean spent tossing and turning, his gut churning with… something. His memory foam mattress that he loved so much felt cold and uncomfortable. He’d never smoked, but now he wished he did, just to have something to do with his restless hands. The guns on his wall and by his bedside couldn’t possibly be cleaner.

When he finally got to sleep, his dreams were plagued with monsters, and Shadow, and Cas. Inches from nightmares. He woke up covered in sweat, and his pulse pounding in his ears and throbbing in his fingertips. The sound of his breathing, deafening in the silent room. His finger hovering over the call button on Charlie’s contact. There was no doubt she’d answer, but it still struck him as wrong to call at three in the morning.

It took three full weeks of sleeping alone, fitful and broken, for Dean to knock on Cas’ door. Fifteen minutes of standing at the door, knuckles raised, trying to settle his heart. When he finally did it, the sound shattered him. He wanted to run and hide, but his feet were glued to the floor. Cas opened the door, rubbing his eyes. A motion that stopped as soon as he saw who was standing there.

“Dean,” he said cautiously, “are you okay?”

‘Yeah, fine!’ He tried to say, but what came out was a defeated, “I don’t… I…” Cas smiled and opened his door wider for Dean to enter, which he did. They sat together on Cas’ bed in tense silence, before Dean said, “I’m sorry.”

Cas glanced up at him, frowning. “I already told you—”

“I know,” Dean interrupted, “I have nothing to be sorry for, and to take all the time I need, but—” 

“Yes, and I meant it.” They stared at each other for a moment, before Dean broke contact. 

“I feel… strange, Cas,” the man in question raised his eyebrows, “Like there's something in me that just won’t settle.” 

Cas took a breath. They were sitting close enough for Dean to feel the rise and fall of his shoulders. “It took me a long time to figure out why I was so drawn to you, Dean. You got so frustrated with me back then, in the first couple of years after we met. Because I watched you. I stood too close to you.” Cas chuckled breathily, remembering. Dean remembered too. Times when he’d turn around to find him inches away. The stir of Cas’ breath on his face.

Dean was still puzzled, “I wasn’t very nice to you,” he said. It was something he grew more and more ashamed of the longer he knew Cas.

“It frustrated me, too,” Cas said, as if Dean hadn’t spoken at all. “I had no idea why my chest tightened at the sight of you. I get it now. I put you back together when you were just shreds of a soul. I got to know the core of your being so intimately before you even knew who I was. Before you even believed that creatures like me existed. Knowing you like that, from the beginning… It was impossible for me not to fall for you,” Cas gave another short laugh, this one wry. A little sad. “In more ways than one.”

Dean remained silent. Not for the first time, Cas had rendered him speechless. 

Cas cleared his throat. “It took me a couple of years to figure out why every time we were together, I felt like my insides wanted to be outside. I made excuses to come with you. Any chance to be with you, I took.  
“I watched you with Benny,” Dean winced slightly at that. Part of him still missed that sorry son-of-a-bitch. “I think that’s when I figured it out; in Purgatory. You said it yourself: it’s pure instinct there. All I wanted to do was keep you out of danger.”

“But I tracked you down anyway,” a soft smile graced Dean’s face. He remembered how happy he was to see Cas down at that stream. In a land of muted greys and blood, Castiel truly was an angel.

“That, you did. And then you broke me from Naomi’s control, and I thought maybe,” Cas balled a fist, “maybe there was a chance.”

“I was going to tell you I loved you,” Dean whispered, and Cas stared at him in surprise. “You're not the only one who figured shit out in Purgatory. Nothing mattered there, except you. I thought you were going to kill me.”

“But you didn’t say it. You said you needed me.” 

Dean shrugged. “That’s no less true. I need you, still.” He kept his eyes trained to the floor. “I love you, still. I just don’t know how to be who you deserve. It’s tearing me apart, man.” His eyes met Cas’, finally.

“You’re right,” Cas started, and Dean’s heart sank to the floor, “I don’t deserve a man like you. I have started… how many apocalypses? I betrayed you and Sam a couple of times. I've lied to you. I don’t deserve you, Dean, but every day that I wake up and you don’t hate me is a day to cherish.  
“I was so scared to feel things. It was confusing and terrifying, but I got used to it. I got used to taking comfort in the small touches we shared. I was more than happy to just… live. By your side, as your best friend and nothing more.”

“You're still my best friend, Cas.” 

“And you are still mine. The rest is up to you.”

Dean nodded. Beside Cas’ bed, there was a radio clock. One-eleven, it read. “I should probably go back to bed.”

“You can stay, if you want.” Cas patted the other side of the bed, innocence in his eyes. Dean found that he did want, and he hid his smile in the dark.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, climbing under the covers. Cas tucked himself in, too, facing Dean. “Goodnight, Cas.”

“Goodnight.”

And it was the best sleep that Dean had had in months.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you folks liked it !
> 
> Thank you for reading :)
> 
> I have a couple of other fics if you want more  
> 🥺  
> 👉👈


End file.
